A Future Worth Fighting For
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: AU. The Shield Slash. Ascension Slash. Seth never meant to get pregnant. And now that he's been evicted from his apartment, he has nowhere to turn... except the richest family in town, who happens to need a nanny for their blind daughter. Can Jezlyn teach Seth to be the parent he never dreamed he could be? And who is the baby's father? Full list of warnings inside. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Kelly and Jezlyn. **  
Rated:** M **  
Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Friends With Benefits, Mpreg, Uncertainty About Parenthood, etc.

* * *

He'd never meant to get pregnant. Hell, he didn't even like kids!

But the little white stick in his hands didn't lie - just as it advertised on the box, three baby blue lines lit up the tiny LED screen. Pregnant.

He dropped the stick into the trash can, burying his face in his hands. He supposed that he could always go out and buy another test, but knew that it was pointless. While he'd always been careful to take every possible precaution, he knew the signs of pregnancy well enough. Morning sickness (which almost never actually occurred in the morning). Odd cravings. Insatiable hunger, followed by periods of being sickened at the very idea of food.

Why buy another test, when it would only confirm what he already knew? And, if he were to be perfectly honest, he had known before administering the first test?

He was pregnant. And he was royally fucked.

It wouldn't be so bad, he reasoned, if he had even a sneaking suspicion regarding the identity of the baby's father. But he hadn't been in a committed relationship in over two years - some scars run deeper than others - and he'd spent the last six months bed-hopping between the beds of Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns. Neither knew about the other, and he preferred to keep it that way. But that was difficult when he could not say definitively which was the father.

This, combined with the fact that he was in no position to care for a child - either mentally, emotionally, or monetarily - had him ready to bash his head against the wall. He was only twenty-nine, living in an apartment that was about to be yanked out from under him (unless he could magically produce the six months back-rent he owed, or find another way to "convince" the landlord to let him stay - and since he wasn't about to lay down and spread his legs for Heyman, that was incredibly unlikely). He couldn't even handle a relationship, what made him think he could handle a baby?

Absently, he placed his hands on his belly, pulling his shirt taut over his abs. Was he just imagining it, or was he beginning to develop a little bit of a paunch? He had no way to tell how far along he was, and had lost his insurance when he lost his job three months ago.

So what was he supposed to do?

He could be honest - clue both Roman and Dean in on what he'd been doing and hope that their potential paternal instincts overshadowed their desire to kill Seth for sleeping around on them. Unlikely. Besides, where had honesty gotten him lately? It had cost him his job, his car, and now his apartment. He had no incentive to be honest, not unless he knew something positive was in it for him. So where did that leave him?

A heavy-handed knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Rollins! Mr. Rollins!" He'd recognize that voice anywhere - it was his landlord, the walrus more commonly referred to as Paul Heyman.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you. I'm coming." He exited the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him. Within seconds, he was opening the door to the apartment.

Paul smiled, revealing two rows of disgustingly yellow teeth. "Your eviction notice, Mr. Rollins. You have twenty-four hours to vacate the premesis... Unless you've decided to reconsider my offer?"

"You're a vile old man, you know that?" Seth hissed. "And no, I haven't reconsidered it. I'm not some slut that will sleep with you for a bribe."

"Not a slut?" Here, Heyman laughed as if Seth had said something terribly funny. "Is that why you're out buying pregnancy tests at the convenience store at three in the morning? The whole building knows you've been sleeping around for months now - finally slip up?"

Seth scowled, not even bothering to ask how Heyman knew about the test. "Fuck off."

"I'd rather fuck you." Heyman responded rather crudely.

"In your dreams." The eviction notice was promptly shoved into his chest hard enough to send him stumbling back. His arms instinctively moved to protect his belly.

Taking the paper from Heyman, he crumpled it up in his hands and slammed the door in the walrus' face. He was barely able to make out the soft 'I'll be sure to count that against your security deposit' before he tuned him out entirely. Twenty-four hours. How the hell was he supposed to get anywhere in twenty-four hours without a car? And what was he supposed to do with all his stuff?

Looking around the shoddy apartment, he realized that using the phrase 'all his stuff' was perhaps a bit misleading. There really wasn't a whole lot there that was of any real value. The apartment was a studio, so the kitchen, dining area, living area, and bedroom were all combined, with a tiny bathroom off in the far corner. As far as furniture went, he had a mattress flat on the floor, a black and white television with bunny ears sitting on a stack of old books in the corner, and a black bean-bag chair in the middle of the room.

Not much, but it was mine. It wasn't even worth the effort to get it down to the pawn shop. So, in the end, it would just get left behind. Paul would have a blast having his goons, Brock Lesnar and Curtis Axel, move the stuff out before they prepped the apartment for the next tenant. Maybe he'd be able to manipulate the next fool between his sheets... Seth almost felt sorry for the poor soul already.

He flattened out the eviction notice, looking it over once, before his phone started to ring. Not even bothering to check the Caller ID, he answered, "Yes?"

 _"Try not to sound so excited to hear from me, sunshine."_ It was Dean. Seth cursed under his breath, putting the phone on speaker as he grabbed his backpack and started to stuff it full of clothes and toiletries.

"Sorry... I'm just a little," where the hell was his comb? "busy at the moment." Yes, he was quite busy getting evicted from his apartment, effective immediately.

 _"Too busy to talk with me? I'm hurt, Sethie."_ Seth could sense the older man's teasing tone, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Never too busy to talk to you, love. I just... I'm in a bit of a predicament at the moment. I have some stuff that needs to get sorted out, but once I take care of that, I'll call you, okay?" Seth was trying his best to deflect. He couldn't afford to just hang up on him.

 _"Promise?"_ There was that teasing note again. _"And listen, about tonight -,"_

Fuck, he'd completely forgotten about tonight. He'd thought that he'd had plans with Roman... "I actually can't make tonight. I'll explain why later. I just... I have to go, I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later."

He hung up before Dean could say anything else, not wanting to delve too deeply into his own personal turmoil. Tossing his phone in with the rest of the items he could take on his back, he cast one last glance at the items he was leaving behind. While it wasn't much, it was his life. It was everything he'd worked so hard for at that dead-end job of his. And now he couldn't even afford to take it with him.

Life certainly had a funny way of kicking you into high gear, didn't it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Kelly and Jezlyn.  
 **Rated:** M  
 **Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Friends With Benefits, Mpreg, Uncertainty About Parenthood, etc.

* * *

Viktor had been twenty-nine years old when he'd had his first, and only, child. He and Konnor had never really discussed parenthood, hadn't even picked out a name for the child until she was placed on Viktor's chest, blinking at him owlishly and silent as death. He'd asked the nurse if that was normal and she'd smiled reassuringly, but it was tight and shaky and didn't reach her eyes. Newborn babies cried. Even someone who had never contemplated parenthood before knew that.

By all accounts, Jezlyn was healthy. She had Viktor's dark brown waves and Konnor's bright blue eyes, but the irises were cloudy. They hadn't thought much of it - a lot of babies were born with blue eyes that got darker a few weeks after birth. Maybe her eyes would be hazel, or even gray. It wasn't anything to worry about.

She slept well, even in her first couple weeks. With the odd schedules Viktor and Konnor kept because of work commitments, neither realized that she had difficultly keeping awake during the day and sleeping through the night. When they slept, she slept, and that was alright.

It wasn't until Konnor left for a six month tour with his band that Viktor noticed something was off. She had just started to crawl, but was running into things. _Big_ things, that she should've been able to clearly see. Like the coffee table. And while the edges had been child-proofed, there was nothing that could be done to lessen the blow to the head from one of the _legs_. She'd hit the table hard enough to knock over Viktor's glass of water, and oh how she'd _screamed_.

"What's the matter, _ma colombe?"_ Viktor scooped up the tiny body into his arms, feeling her head for any bumps. And that's when he realized - she wasn't looking at him. She was looking off to the side, at where she assumed he was based off of where his voice was coming from. " _Ma colombe..."_

His daughter was blind. There was no other possible explanation.

She was formally declared legally blind at the age of five. Her line of vision amounted to the size of a keyhole, and what she _could_ see was so blurry it could hardly be considered 'seeing' at all. She needed round-the-clock care, so Viktor quit his job to take care of her. But much as he loved his daughter, he couldn't handle the cabin fever that resulted, and began to resent her for a condition completely out of her control.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean you're not going to be back for another week? You promised -," Viktor bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. They'd had this conversation a thousand times over, arguing it again wasn't going to produce a different result.

Jezlyn sat on the couch, her therapy cat Koopa on her lap. She was playing with one of her many Barbie dolls - this one from Germany, a gift from her suspiciously absent father and cause of her mother's current distress. It had taken her a few tries, but she'd finally managed to get the doll's shirt on correctly. She was trying to drown out the fighting in the background, but it was easier said than done.

"You know what? Go fuck yourself, asshole!" Viktor slammed the phone down onto the receiver, causing Jezlyn to flinch. She tried to make herself as small as possible, hoping to avoid Viktor's wrath. Viktor saw this and sighed, "Jezlyn, come over here."

"Yes, Momma." She slid off the couch, Koopa jumping down and weaving in-between her legs. She used the back of the couch for guidance, following the sound of Viktor's voice to arrive at the kitchen. "M-Momma?"

He scooped her up into his arms, before setting her down on the counter. "You know that I love you very much, right, _ma colombe_?"

Viktor gently ran his fingers through her chocolate curls, attempting to soothe her. Koopa jumped up on the counter beside her, purring away. "I know that, Momma."

"I just... I'm having a hard time, dealing with your Daddy. He's been away for so long and..." he sighed, trying to find a way to phrase what it was he wanted to say without hurting the little girl's feelings. "He's been promising to come home for weeks now, and keeps blowing it off and I... I'm going to head back to work. I got a new job."

"A job?" She couldn't help the tinge of fear that crept into her tone. Was her mother going to leave her?

Jezlyn knew that they weren't in want of money. They were the only family in town that was able to afford an entire staff of servants, in addition to a garage filled with fancy foreign cars (her Daddy's special toys, as her Mommy so affectionately called them), and the largest house in town... There was no reason for Viktor to need to go back to work. Was he just tired of her?

Viktor saw the emotions playing out on her face - he could read his little _colomobe_ like a book. He wished that there was some way he could convince her that this wasn't her fault, but a huge part of why he knew he had to get out of the house was because he was beginning to blame her for his feeling of stir craziness. He loved his daughter more than words could express, but he couldn't handle being cooped up in the house like this anymore.

"Why were you fighting with Daddy?" She asked softly, not wanting to make her Momma angry.

Viktor sighed, "Daddy got delayed coming home... again." This wasn't the first time and he doubted it would be the last. Konnor seemed to be allergic to coming home. "And it wasn't a fight - just a little disagreement. Mommy and Daddy don't fight."

Jezlyn frowned, "If you're not fighting, why won't Daddy come home?"

For a moment, his facade faltered and a tear slipped down his cheek. Then, he frowned, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "I don't know, _ma colombe._ I don't know."

* * *

He knew full-well why Konnor wouldn't come home. Konnor had been battling a nasty drug addiction the entirety of their marriage, but it always flared up when he was on tour. He was embarrassed by it, knew that it broke Viktor a little bit every time he came home completely wasted, and so he had started trying to hide it. The only problem was that Viktor knew what went on during his tours, and it hurt more to know that Konnor would rather be wasting his life away than be with his family.

But he wasn't bitter. Not at all. He'd taken off his ring three weeks ago and wished that Konnor was around to see it - or at least would stay on the line long enough so he could tell him off. Hell, if he were to be honest with himself, at this point, he was lucky that Konnor still called at all.

He was out on the back porch, playing with Jezlyn. Well, it was more like watching Jezlyn play. She had learned the layout of the background well, so he wasn't worried about her stumbling across anything that might hurt her. It was relaxing, watching her and that damned therapy cat. The cat had been Konnor's idea, in one of his more lucid moments. It had been one of his better ideas, too. The cat was just as taken with Jezlyn as she was with it.

And Viktor was totally allergic to it.

He scratched where his wedding ring used to rest, before returning his attention to the novel he was reading. He'd made it about halfway through and still hadn't the slightest as to what it was about. Probably because he kept looking up every second or so to make sure that Jezlyn hadn't wandered too far off. As long as she was happy and keeping that damned cat away from him, then he was content to miss half the novel. He could always read it again later.

"Momma! Momma, look!" Viktor watched as she tossed the ball into the air. It wasn't very high, only a few inches above her head, but it probably didn't seem that way to her. "Am I throwing the ball really high, Momma?"

"Really, _really_ high, _ma colombe_." By this point, he'd returned to not-reading his book. The characters were doing things that, quite frankly, shouldn't be read in front of a five-year-old, but... Well, if _he_ wasn't getting any action, he might as well read about it.

Jezlyn laughed happily. "I bet I can throw it so high, it'll touch the sky, Momma!" The higher she threw it, the more she began to lose control of the ball.

Viktor didn't even look up from the novel, finally able to sink in to the good part. "That's good, _ma colombe_. Just be careful, alright?"

She threw the ball even higher, but failed to catch it when it came back down. She couldn't hear where it landed, but a quick trip around the backyard was proof enough that it wasn't there anymore. There were a few trees around, but she doubted the ball was big enough to get trapped between the branches. Which left only one alternative. The cat mewled ominously from beside the gate, which led out onto the street.

Though she knew how to unlatch the gate by herself, she wasn't supposed to head outside the boundaries of the backyard unsupervised. She didn't know the street nearly as well as she did the boundaries of her own backyard, and then there was the matter of the cars speeding past at upwards of fifty miles per hour...

But her Daddy had bought her that ball, and she couldn't just let it go.

Jezlyn quickly unlatched the gate, ignoring Koopa's growls, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. It never occurred to her that she'd probably never be able to find the ball on her own - it could be anywhere on the street, after all. She stepped further out, recognizing the drop from the curb onto the street. Not seconds later, the blaring of a car horn broke through the otherwise serene Saturday morning.

Viktor felt a sharp nip on the ankle, looking up to see the gate swinging open and his daughter nowhere to be found. "Jezlyn?" There was the car horn, followed shortly thereafter by a heart-wrenching scream. "Jezlyn!"

* * *

 **ma colombe -** my dove


End file.
